


Trapped

by Rhianne



Category: CI5: The New Professionals
Genre: Action/Adventure, Ficlet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 19:42:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhianne/pseuds/Rhianne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A light action ficlet. No plot or anything. Written for Al. Just another day in the office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trapped

“Just move the bloody thing!”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Chris snapped back, biting off a curse as he turned the key for the sixth time, but the engine still refused to start.

He glanced behind him through the shattered window, all too aware of the black-clad figures slowly beginning to emerge from the cars behind them.

The dizzying car chase through deserted streets had been just one more in a long line since he’d joined CI5, but this time he and Sam had been the hunted, and that was a change that Chris did not like.

He couldn’t see much through the rear windscreen – the glass had cracked in half a dozen places from bullets and stones thrown up during the wild ride, but he could still make out the guns in the hands of their pursuers.

He tried the ignition for the last time, sighing as the engine spluttered once, then died in a whine that told Chris it would take a minor miracle or a fleet of mechanics to get it started now.

“We’re not going anywhere,” he announced, releasing his grip on the steering wheel and reaching for his gun.

“Shit!” Sam exclaimed suddenly, reaching out and half-pulling Chris down across the seats just as another bullet shot through the car, the rear windscreen finally shattering behind it in a hail of glass that embedded itself in the back of Chris’ seat, raining down on the steering wheel where his head had been just seconds before.

Chris winced as tiny splinters glass settled in his hair. Sam kept one arm on Chris’ shoulder, holding him in place as he fired back through the broken glass, and Chris heard a satisfying yelp as the bullet hit home.

“One down,” Sam remarked, releasing the now empty clip and slamming a new one in its place.

“Thanks for the save, Sam,” Chris began dryly, glancing up at his partner from where he was sprawled with his head in Sam’s lap, “but now is hardly the time.”

“And here I was thinking you’d be grateful,” Sam smirked.

“Maybe later,” Chris replied, putting one hand on Sam’s thigh to haul himself back up into his seat before firing back at their attackers.

Sam ducked down in his seat as another bullet was fired into the car. “Damn it, we need to get out of here.”

“There’s no escape my side,” Chris commented, risking another glance out of the window to see that the shooters were approaching the car on the driver’s side, and that if he stepped out of the car there would be no cover between him and way too many bullets.

Sam tried his door again, but the panel had buckled during the chase when one of their pursuers rammed them, and the twisted metal was refusing to budge.

“If you’ve got any bright ideas, Chris,” Sam muttered, firing grimly through the back window as another spray of bullets began to tear into the ruined car, “now would be a good time.”

Chris glanced wildly around them, looking desperately for some kind of inspiration. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that they want to take us alive?”

The glass shattered next to his head as the shooters got close enough for their aim to reach the front half of the car.

“I think they’re past caring!”

“Here,” Chris began, handing Sam his gun. “Keep them back as long as you can.”

Sam took the gun automatically, frowning at Chris in surprise. “What are you going to do?”

“You asked for a bright idea,” he remarked wryly.

“Oh God,” Sam muttered before firing rapidly back at their pursuers, who ducked back down out of sight as another of Sam’s bullets hit their mark.

Chris braced himself, one hand on the steering wheel and one on his seat as he twisted round to kick both feet out at the passenger door.

“That’s the big idea?” Sam asked sceptically as the metal continued to hold.

“It’s either this or the windscreen,” Chris yelled back over the ongoing thuds of gunfire hitting metal. “I’d rather not lose an artery if I can help it.” He kicked again, wincing as the impact sent a shockwave of protest up both his legs, and the door only gave an inch or so before stubbornly continuing to hold.

“This had better work soon,” Sam yelled as he ducked away from another bullet shower. “I think I can smell petrol.”

“Just keep them away from the car for a few more minutes,” Chris repeated, kicking out again with a yell and this time the door finally gave, springing open with a scream of protesting metal that rocked the car sideways.

Twisting in his seat, Chris threw open the door on his side, ducking back towards the middle of the car as a hail of bullets thudded into the open door just inches from where he sat. The diversion worked, though, and enough of their attackers were focused on the open driver's door that Sam was able to slip out his side of the car relatively unimpeded.

“Come on!” Sam shouted, reaching in to practically haul Chris across the passenger seat of the car. Sam laid down as much cover fire as he could while they scrambled towards the side of the road, where the tarmac gave way to a small bank of grass that rose a few feet in the air before dropping away into a mud-filled ditch. It wasn’t much, and wouldn’t protect them for long, but it was the only cover close enough to reach.

Sam still had hold of Chris’ arm as they dropped into the ditch, pushing them both back against the damp earth as bullets pinged into the concrete above their heads and down to the grass at their feet.

Chris was breathing hard as he reached out and took his gun back from his partner, checking the clip to see how much ammunition he had left and cursing when he realised that only two bullets hadn’t been fired.

“We’re not going to be able to hold them off for long,” Chris commented, glancing over the lip of the road to see their pursuers taking cover behind the ruined shell of their car.

Three bodies littered the pavement behind them, but Chris could still count seven armed men crouched behind the car, and the meagre cover of the grassy bank wouldn’t protect them long enough for backup to arrive.

“How many bullets have you got left?” he asked Sam.

“One,” Sam replied in disgust. “You?”

“Two.”

“Shit.”

“Yep. The next bright idea is yours, I think.”

“Mr Curtis!”

The smug voice floated over from the relative safety of the car. “We only want the disc back. There’s no reason for the both of you to give your lives for this.”

Sam glanced over at Chris. “You believe him?” he asked, his wry expression plainly showing that he didn’t. Chris merely shook his head grimly, wracking his brain to try and think of some way out of this mess.

“You have one minute, Mr Curtis,” the voice called again, and suddenly Sam stiffened, looking down at his gun with a glint in his eye that caught Chris’ attention.

“Sam?”

Sam turned to his partner, the tiniest trace of a grin playing around his lips. “They’re all hiding behind the car, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I can still smell petrol,” Sam added, and Chris sniffed automatically, the cloying smell finally registering with his senses. He began to grin back.

“Malone would be pissed,” he mentioned.

“Probably,” Sam’s grin simply grew wider.

“Thirty seconds, Mr Curtis,” the smug voice warned.

“On three?” Chris asked, and Sam nodded.

“One…two…three!”

With a shout both men turned and stood up to see over the bank, taking aim at the growing black puddle under the wreck. Three bullets fired in quick succession before a spark caught the petrol and the car exploded, pieces of metal flying in all directions as the car rose up from the ground, flipped over and landed on its roof a few feet away, the screech of searing metal accompanied by the screams of the men behind it.

For a few seconds there was silence except for the crackling of the flames, and as the smoke cleared both Sam and Chris counted seven men on the ground. At least one was definitely dead, but it was clear that none of the others were any kind of threat.

Only then did they hear the roar of an approaching engine as Backup’s car appeared round a corner a few hundred yards away.

Both men climbed wearily up the bank and back to the road, kicking the guns away from the fallen men as they picked their way through the wreckage.

“You get to explain this to Malone,” Sam remarked suddenly.

“It was your idea!” Chris protested.

“It’s your turn,” Sam replied with a smile as he walked away to greet Backup.


End file.
